


On Duty

by joannabelle



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Crylo Ren chronic masturbator, Hux is done, I'll show myself out, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Mitaka needs a raise, in more than one way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joannabelle/pseuds/joannabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an unfortunate incident during Kylo’s latest training session, General Hux and Kylo Ren become involuntarily connected through a Force link which allows them both to feel the other’s emotions as though they are experiencing them themselves.</p><p>The General finds this increasingly irritating: because it turns out Kylo Ren likes to whack off throughout the day on WORK TIME, and Hux can’t keep having orgasms in front of his staff.</p><p>He is going to have to do something about it.</p><p>(written for tfa_kink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars.  
> Warnings: Kylo glues himself to his hand on work time, and it is not okay.  
> Notes: I have no shame nor sense of propriety.

  


* * *

Well, sure, it was unfortunate.  
  
Though if anyone had bothered to ask, Kylo Ren would have insisted it had not been intentional.  
  
And in a way, he supposed, _Snoke_ was to blame: it was all part of his training after all.  
  


* * *

  
It had started as most other mornings on the _Finalizer_ started: sitting on the floor of his private quarters at 5am.  The alarm clock on his beside table was glaring in a stark of blue flash of square digits; the only illumination in the room.  
  
Kylo Ren had been awake for 54 hours now – and counting.   
  
It was, without a trace of dishonesty, a wondrous feeling.  His head was spinning in a delirious hum; strange colours a-float upon the edges of his vision like a static, an array of zig-zagged lines dipped in carmine, lime, violet and blue.  
  
He could almost hear them: like a song lost in the undercurrent, something swirling and fey.  It lay just out of reach before him; though this, Kylo knew, was its purpose.  For here he leaned forward in a strain in his position, cross-legged and taut upon the floor – as he tried his best to listen.  
  
The effect was precise: a smooth feeling of looseness that descended upon him like a wave.  Both empty, yet immersive, Kylo felt himself strung along the tide – caught in a rip that tugged him to shore.   
  
His eyes fell shut: he was ready.  
  
For here … here he just.  
  
He just –  
  
“Achoo!”  
  
No!  
  
“Shit!” Kylo swore, as he was ripped back into his body, barrelling with his full presence back onto his hunch upon the floor.   
  
This Sith-damned dust was going to be _the end of him_!  
  
He wrenched his eyes open in frustration, glaring around the room.  It was just no use!  These sneezes were really, really ruining his concentration.  He had been awake _54 hours now_ –  
  
And he had orders from Snoke!  
  
This would not do!  
  
He growled, willing his mind still, as Kylo took a breath and tried to return to where he’d left off.  After a few minutes he could feel the particles again: stuck upon his skin, and dusted every hair along his arm where it stood, raised in a shiver under the cold, sterile air.  
  
He was nearly there now – he could feel it, swimming.  A beat upon his ears like an incandescent husk as though he were drawing laps in the water, sleuthing through space.  
  
There was a sound calling to him from across the ship and he followed it, like a like a ghost – darting yet ever closer; invisible, and unreal.  He could hear a tapping noise like fingers darting across a keyboard and the gentle murmur of coordinates being mumbled, drone-like, in a hushed yet bustling room.   
  
Kylo let out a breath – tightened his lock.  There: the brush of gentle hairs inside an ear.  He could feel the structure that surrounded it, both strong and malleable, and then –  
  
A soft fuzzed brush of white curved skin, an _earlobe_ , pale and dry –  
  
Fearful of taking in another breath, Ren forewent it to push in deeper, uncurling his fists at his sides.    
  
It felt as though he was crawling right through the ridged entrance of a cave – so still and so small, no more than a whisper.  And then, in a final plunge, he was in: his consciousness melding into a swirl of thoughts and gasps and a _sea_.  Kylo could feel the very neurons of another’s brain pulsing around him, and the steady beating of a heart which pounded slightly as though in reaction to an intruder it could not see.  
  
He felt a voice.  Or, rather, two voices, there; louder than the tapping:  
  
“Yes, Mitaka, you are correct.  Look closer in on the area near Hosnian, just there.  Enlarge it.”  
  
“One moment, Sir.”  
  
Tap tap tap.  Tap.  
  
And – _ah_.  The realisation of who, exactly, his mind has chosen as a subject for this particular excursion came to Kylo in a beat, as in a tingle of slicked-back red hair the vision began to spread up his nose like a wildfire, scorching the way up its path to catch inside his throat, until –  
  
“A _choo_!”  
  
Kylo was wrenched back out.   
  
“Shit, shit, _shit_!”  
  
Reaching behind himself in a blind fit of fury, he grabbed the nearest item – which happened to be his Darth Vader fizzy-mug – and launched it across the room in the general direction of his bedside table.  There was a crash and a loud ringing, as the blue angry lights displaying ‘5:43am’ went out with a flicker.  
  
Another two sneezes hit him quick in succession.   
  
Right, that’s it, what was his –  
  
No.  No, no, breathe.    
  
Kylo checked himself.  Because really, he supposed, it would do not good to dismantle his own room in a blur of smouldering furniture.  This was, after all, his favourite masturbation spot.  
  
No, that was far better left for when he had access to Hux’s precious operational equipment.  It brought with it far more satisfaction, if but just to see the look on the General’s face.  
  
And besides, Kylo realised: his head felt a bit funny now, as though those sneezes had reset something inside of him, some trigger in his mind.  He felt calmer, which was strange.  And yet there was something else there, too: some small, nervous thing that ticked through Kylo’s veins in a march of ants, jabbing at his skin.  Was it excitement?  Anticipation?  Nervousness?  Either way, it was not normal – for it was giving him the strangest urge to stand and pace.   
  
And Kylo Ren did not pace.  
  
Instead, he settled for scraping his nails across the palm of his left hand, and dug them in hard enough to leave a mark.  What would he be excited about, anyway?  Nothing was happening.  
  
He frowned, almost itchy, and peered over in the direction of his bed.  He really ought to put in an order for a new regulation alarm clock: he did not want to miss the Senior Officers’ meeting tomorrow morning, though the reason why escaped him.   
  
Perhaps because it was the only meeting he would have attended in a week?  But Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren led a busy schedule thank you very much.  And he – hmm.  
  
Why was he berating himself about shift attendance anyway?  He didn’t usually care.  
  
That was Hux’s domain: caring.  Kylo Ren made a studious point of caring very little, about most of everything.  Everything, that is, other than Darth Vader, who he cared about very much indeed – but that was a thought for a different time, and perhaps not one where he was sitting on the floor in the dark feeling oddly nervous, and possibly also aroused.  
  
Huffing a strand of hair out of his face, Kylo rearranged himself to get up off the floor.   
  
Clearly, he realised, stripping off his shirt and stumbling across the room, using the Force to avoid the pieces of his broken clock – he was well overdue for some rest.  
  


* * *

  
Unbeknownst, however, to Kylo Ren, as the Knight soon slipped into a fitful, naked sleep – a strange shift had taken place, and one that was sure to come back later, so to speak, and nip him in the ass.  
  
For deep in the recesses of his mind now hung the nattered whispers of _another_ ’s voice, which has followed him into his sleep – the origin of which was now making itself a second cup of unsweetened caf, blissfully unawares, from the far side of the ship.  
  


* * *

  
By midday, General Hux’s hands were trembling from all the caffeine.  
  
He had started his shift as per usual: at the prudent hour of 0430.  A sterling time, in his opinion, for any self-respecting General to awaken.  He had, in fact, even beaten his alarm clock this morning: arising with his daily scowl at 03:55.  The extra time had allowed sufficient excuse for a morale-boosting breakfast with the troops.  
  
Not many others dined at 0400 on a workday, it was true.  In fact, the grand total other members of staff inside the mess room other than General Hux had turned out to be zero, but the General had congratulated himself on his efforts nonetheless.  It was not _his_ fault no one else was there: but his duty was done, and he felt no remorse afterwards for studiously ignoring his staff for the remainder of the day.  After all breakfasts were for conversation, and work time was for work.  
  
Sighing with what he hoped would not be misconstrued for contentment into his travel mug of caf, General Hux strode another ten paces to the left inside the control room to oversee ol’ Lieutenant Mitaka’s progress.  The Lieutenant had been tasked with locating a suitable launch-test site for Hux’s personally-designed new super-weapon: of which he had affectionately dubbed ‘Starkiller’ after the name came to him in a dream.  
  
“Ah yes,” Hux exclaimed, watching with satisfaction as Lieutenant Mitaka jumped back a little in shock, having not sensed Hux’s approach so close to his ear. “Yes that area looks ideal, don’t you think?”  
  
To be honest, Hux did not really care what Mitaka thought: but asking questions was a morale-boosting activity as well, and Hux cared about his employee ratings.  
  
“Yes, sir.” Mitaka responded, automatic.  Hux was satisfied, and made a mental note to refresh the Lieutenant’s mandatory training sessions later in the term, but with an attachment that read “regulation-only” on the request as the officer had clearly been paying attention in the last three.  In the General’s world, it was the equivalent of giving out a very large gold star.  
  
Hux’s right eye twitched, and he took another sip of his caf to mask the leak of expression.  
  
Unfortunately for him, it was at this precise moment – as Hux leaned further over Mitaka’s chair to get a better view of the dash show the spacing coordinates between each of the targeted planets – that something strange happened.  Something unexpected, and nothing short of absurd.  
  
The General felt the stagger of what felt suspiciously like an _emotion_ hit him in his back like a catapult, the force of it nearly causing him to spill his caf all across the controls and Mitaka’s regulation black sleeves.  It –  
  
He –  
  
Well, he – _Oh_.  
  
Oh _okay_ no, no.  No no, no  
  
No –  
  
“I – “ He gasped in fright, gripping the back of Mitaka’s chair in a lurch, as a feeling he had not experienced in over three weeks swept through him like a tidal wave, his left hand trembling so hard the lid was threatening to pop off the top of his travel mug – “I – fff–”  
  
But he could not get the rest of the sentence out.   
  
For instead, Hux gripped onto the chair before him so hard Mitaka craned his neck around in a panic – as an almighty shudder ran through the General from head to toe in a euphoric burst that saw his knees slacken and his torso drop against the Lieutenant’s seat-back with a groan.  Mitaka craned his head further, as Hux’s cock gave three almighty twitches inside his regulation briefs and he clung onto the seat, head dipped over Mitaka’s shoulder – the unmistakable sensation of a warm, wet heat dribbling down his left thigh.  
  
Hux’s breath froze in his throat.  
  
No.  Surely –  
  
“General?  Are you alright?”  
  
Surely he _had not just_ –  
  
“General Hux?”  
  
He could _not have just_ –  
  
Mitaka was turned right around in his seat now, eyes wide and running down the General as though checking him for injury.  
  
And he – _Hux – he_ –  
  
He –  
  
“Excuse me.” he croaked; and all but sprinted from the room.  
  


* * *

  
Kylo leaned back with a groan as the last of the tremors died down between his thighs – and he smiled.  
  
Ah, that was just what he had needed: something to get rid of all the stress that had built up as he’d slept.  
  
A cooler-off, if you will.  
  
Kylo smirked to himself, trying to swallow down the strange, faint feeling of something akin to embarrassment that had begun tapping away in the back of his mind for the last few minutes and had no place in his quarters – and then he flicked his wrist.  
  
A string of come landed wet upon his knee.  
  
It smelled like success.  
  


* * *

  
It took General Hux a full week of scowling, trembling, and biting through his lip in _highly inappropriate places_ , for the realisation to hit.  
  
Unfortunately for him, it was just a little bit too late.  
  
“… the end of a regime that _acquiesces_ to disorder.  At this very moment in a system far from here the New Republic lies to the galaxy while secretly supporting the treachery of the loathsome _Resistance_!  This fierce machine which you have built, upon which we stand, will bring an end to the Senate, to their cherished fleet!  All remaining systems will _bow_ to the First Order, and will remember this: as the _last day_ of the _Repub---._ ”  
  
Somewhere in the audience, a ‘Trooper lost their footing.  
  


* * *

  
‘Star-gate’ they’d called it.  
  
Hux leaned back with a snarl, watching as the edited clip of his shuddering face repeated its twitches across the large screen in front of him, the red light of the explosions reflected in the glassiness of his eyes – as, without any trace of a doubt, it was clear to all who watched the playback that this was the precise moment General Hux had ejaculated into his pants mid-speech on the podium.  
  
‘Star-gate’.  
  
For the love of Sith.  
  
He knew the video was circling.  Captain Phasma had caught him at the exit of his rooms earlier that afternoon, after he’d finished with a frantic mopping of the inside of his First Order insignated trousers – for the _fifteenth_ time – and tried to splash the pink out of his cheeks with a cold, regulation washcloth.  
  
It hadn’t worked.  
  
“General,” She’d said, catching his arm – helmet off and brow furrowed – and he’d known what was coming, then.  He had suspected it, as much.   
  
“I’m afraid it’s as your feared, Sir.”  
  
Hux bit back a sign, resigning himself to his fate.  Him, and his damned penis: they were in this together.  
  
“How many copies?”  
  
Captain Phasma had paused, blinking down at him.  
  
“Well …”  
  
“How many copies, Captain?”  
  
“General. Sir. … _Hux_.” She amended, looking perturbed, though rather not as perturbed she _should_ look, and Hux made a mental note to add this in a notation at the Captain’s next staff review under the category ‘ _to improve_ ’: “You knew it was an unrealistic hope: you organised the live-stream yourself.”  
  
Well.  Well … well, yes.  Hux frowned.  
  
But not without _Snoke’s_ orders.  And not without _okaying_ it with the rest of the team first.  And not without … and not without …  
  
Not.  Without …  
  
Oh bloody. _hell_.  
  
The other shoe (or rather, the helmet) dropped; and, really, it was well overdue – as the final piece clicked into place and Hux’s green eyes widened at the same time his pupils narrowed to a point.  
  
That little _fucking_ –  
  


* * *

  
“You little fucking _shit_!”  
  
It was nice, Kylo thought, that Hux was always so kind and considerate, and knocked before entering his private quarters.  
  
“What if I was masturbating?” The Knight groused, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair as he blinked over at the doors to his room which had burst open mere moments before, of apparently their own accord.  Or, as it was, on the accord of some demanding General Hux and his stupid endless plethora of override codes.  
  
Kylo scowled.  
  
“I was having a nap, you know.”  
  
“I don’t care if you were shagging General Organa of the Resistance in here, Ren – you are a little shit, and I am _done_ with your games!”  
  
“That’s my mother!”  
  
“One more time Ren, and I’m taking this to Snoke!  This is a _violation_!  It’s disgusting!”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“You know –” Hux turned, if possible, pinker – “ _exactly_ what I am talking about, you crude perverted little shit!  One more time Ren, we’ll see what happens!”  
  
And with that, Hux burst out of the Knight’s quarters with about the same flair and aggression as he had entered: the General’s long, fluttered black coattail swishing in his wake and leaving a confused, fuming, bewildered, and _inexplicably_ aroused Kylo Ren still sitting on the bed.  Seriously: why did he have an erection?  What was Hux even yelling about?  
  
What the. _fuck_.  
  
Hux, it seemed, was so mad that Kylo could still feel his anger wafting from down the hall, despite the General’s clacking footsteps now out of range.  The emotion was dripping down Kylo’s arms like a venom, and it prickled at the back of his neck until he was forced to clench his jaw and grit his teeth as the sensation (the very odd sensation, that he was sure was not coming from him) of humiliation and arousal in equal measure swirled through his veins.  
  
And well – Well.  Fuck Hux, anyway!  That General was a psychopath, but Kylo supposed was nothing new.  He already _knew_ that.   
  
Kylo snorted, dragging his blankets back up around him in what was most certainly not a defensive motion, as he Force-shut the doors with a wave of his hand.  
  
This probably required some form of meditation to understand.   
  
And for Hux, possibly a pill.  
  


* * *

  
Within five minutes, Kylo had decided meditation was for the sated, and he most certainly did _not_ fit the bill.  
  
Leaning back against his mattress, he took himself firmer in hand to swipe his thumb across the already-leaking tip of his cock, and let out a hiss.  Sure, he had just done this before his nap – but when round two called, well… Round two called.  
  
Kylo licked the palm of his left hand, careful to transfer as much spit was as possible onto his fingers – before moving down to fondle at his balls, hands caressing himself in a ghost over the skin before rolling the sacs across the flat of his palm, his right hand keeping up its rhythm.  
  
He huffed, glancing down at himself, as he brought his hand up to tweak his fingers across a nipple and tightened the grip on his cock, pumping harder.  A keen sound of slapping filled the room Kylo quickened his pace, rather bored.  But fuck, it still felt good.  Yes.  Fuck, it felt _good_.  
  
It did not take long before Kylo was thrusting into the strokes, his hips arching off the bed as he re-angled his legs wider, changing the pressure of his hand right _there_ – and reached down to grasp his left hand across the base of his cock, pressing into the skin of his groin, as he jerked himself faster.  
  
He was just about twelve strokes off coming (were he to stop, sit, and calculate it) for the second time that afternoon, when in another brazen violation of his privacy the doors to his quarters hissed back open, in an angry red squawk of his combination codes being short-circuited.  
  
“REN!”  
  
“ _Shit_!” Kylo spat, as he wrenched his hand off his cock.  He threw himself up, sitting in a tangle of dishevelled hair, long limbs and angry erection – all in a matter of moments.  Who the fuck –  
  
But there, stood again in his _fucking doorway_ glared a red-faced, _furious_ -looking Hux.  The whole vision looked ridiculous: the General had a piece of hair floating across his forehead like he’d forgotten to stick it down, and the rest of Hux’s eyes were being swallowed into a furrowing frown that was made all more comical by the fact Kylo was watching it through the pasty-white framing of his own hairy legs.  Ren stared right back, as he realised after an extended pause in which neither man moved that yes, indeed, he still hand one hand on his cock.  Woops.  
  
Kylo panted, sitting rather dumb with his mouth hung open, as he waited for something to happen.  Hux, however, appeared to be somewhat distracted himself; the longer Kylo sat there the more he became fairly convinced Hux was giving him a once-over from the doorway, as his eyes traced Hux’s snake-eyes as they in turn traced along the outline of his cock.  And well, that wasn’t good enough!  
  
“How dare you!” Kylo spluttered, as they were the first words that came back into his mind.  
  
The nerve of Hux!  This was Kylo’s room!  The General had just _left_ , lulling Kylo into a false sense of security in the process!  Was this part of his plan?  Was this – ?  
  
He flushed.  
  
“And I _was_ masturbating this time, thank you General! You have five seconds to remove yourself from my room!”  In a valiant effort, Kylo tried to reinstate his glare.  Unfortunately for him, the look came out feeling far more like he had just shot Hux squinty bedroom-eyes across the room –and the breathlessness quality of his voice was not helping matters.  That, coupled with Kylo’s rather determined erection, apparently did not go over too well.  
  
“You little _shit_!” Hux’s mouth curled in a sneer, as instead of leaving – like any proper General ought to – the insolent ginger stalk went and stepped _further_ into his room.  
  
“This is a violation of my privacy!” Ren snapped, floundering, mimicking Hux’s earlier complaint.  He removed his hand from his cock and dragged it high into the air – quite ready to force-choke the mouthy, nosy General into silence once and for all –  
  
“Of _your privacy_?” Kylo winced.  Though some small grace came to him in the closing of his quarter’s doors, as Hux’s voice raised higher. “Of _your privacy_?!”  
  
“Of my privacy!  You’re in my room!  Watching me wank!”  
  
“Watching you wank?!”  
  
“Are you on drugs?”  
  
“Watching you _wank_?!  Oh yes, and I suppose you projecting your orgasms to me across the ship is completely acceptable, you little fuck, you little fucking shit Kylo Ren, you little broken piece of – “ Hux paused for a moment, as though trying to re-collect himself, and Kylo could feel him sort through the assorted slew of insults buzzing through his head, trying to pick the next most appropriate.   
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Kylo cut in, his voice raised now to meet Hux’s blow for blow. “Why would I project orgasms to you?!  Get the fuck out of my room!”  
  
But Hux, it seemed, was having none of it as his hands braced upon his hips and he straightened his back.  For a split second Kylo was reminded of his mother’s scolds, and a very unpleasant jolt ran through him – before Hux’s next words brought him right back to the moment.  
  
“No you know what Ren, fuck _you_.”  The General jabbed a gloved finger in Kylo’s direction as though wishing he could stab Ren through the chest with it, and Hux’s chest puffed further, as though blowing himself up to full height.  “Fuck _you_.  Fuck – “  
  
Hux paused, blinking.  “Actually – no. I’m _done_. I told you you’d see what happens if you did it one more time, and here it is, you little desperate shit.”  
  
Kylo watched in horror, then, as the lean man started to pace towards him in a click of angry boots. “If you want to come so badly, you’re going to have to wait for it.”  
  
Shocked and horny as he was, Kylo could do little else but stare.  His still-erect cock was not helping matters, as Kylo desperately tried to think of a retort, and failed.  Instead, he sat upon the bed as Hux strode across the room: silent, slack-jawed, and speechless.  
  
Hux – still wearing his stupid little hat upon his stupid, ginger head, his eyes stupid, his hair stupid, his frown uncalled for and ridiculous – proceeded then to climb up over Kylo in a swath of regulation fabric, and pin his wrists against the bed.  
  
“The fuck.” Kylo breathed, his brain right about giving up.  In its place, it seemed, his dick had taken charge – as it twitched in rude reminder against his thigh.  Things _weren’t finished yet_.  
  
“I am aware.” Kylo mumbled to his cock, and Hux frowned down at him for a moment, before deciding that Kylo speaking to himself was nothing that out-of-the-ordinary, and whatever; and he bent further over, to hover above Kylo’s lips.  
  
“I ought to teach you a lesson,” he growled – and Kylo growled right back, like a beast.   
  
The General was far too aroused for the situation at hand.  Kylo could feel the press of Hux’s erection pushing against stomach, as Hux lowered his hips then to grate in one slow, drawn-out motion up the length of Kylo’s thick and weeping cock.  
  
“Fucking hell.”  
  
What the fuck _was_ this? – Why was Hux … Hux was crowding him.  It was a _highly_ inappropriate – and unorthodox – and non-regulation –  
  
In his private bedchambers –  
  
Bloody, _panting_ and stuff, even –  
  
Kylo groaned, arching up, as the breath from Hux’s lips peppered over his cheeks.  This was terrible.  
  
And maybe he liked it – … maybe.  A little.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
“I – “  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“What –” But the protest was lost, Kylo’s half-breath was cut short by the crush of Hux’s teeth: as the General descended like a vulture, and started to eat him whole.  
  
Kylo grunted – as really, he should push that feral thing off.  
  
But instead, he settled for fighting back: hard.  With his tongue.  
  


* * *

  
The moral of the story was this, Kylo learned – were he ever asked to retell the tale in later life.  To, say, a group of small grandchildren, looking up at him in awe:  
That a firm round of anal sex (plus complimentary rim job) between two hateful co-commanders can bring to completion even the strongest-bound Force link between a pair bonded in the moment’s half-pleasure of a sneeze.  
  
In fact, were Kylo asked, he would stress that indeed the act of giving an additional _second_ blowjob, after hours upon hours of waiting with hands-cuffed in the privacy of one’s own quarters for the other’s shift to finish with the firm instruction of “ _do not touch, or you’ll never come another instance in your lifetime – trust me, Ren, there are ways_ ”, is a precise and excellent way to finish off the spell with a flourish – and to go out with a low and exulting _bow_.  
  
Whether or not Kylo could still feel a twinge in his heart when the other was in pain, or the spike of arousal when General Hux fell into a devious daydream in the middle of their Supreme Leader holocom meetings was of no consequence and, frankly, not worth the mention.  
  
After all: it _was_ Snoke’s fault – kind of – anyway.

 


End file.
